


Mission Objective: Sleepy Stark

by Iron_George



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Cuddles, Stargazing, Tony Stark Gets a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_George/pseuds/Iron_George
Summary: "Imagine your OTP looking up at the stars. Person A is really enthusiastic, pointing out the constellations and person B just falls asleep to their voice."I've been slaving over extremely slow-going, multi-chapter fics, and it's been agony because I've just REALLY wanted to publish something into this fandom. And then I remembered this short and sweet little one-shot I wrote up back in September, 2016, and I kind of just... wondered why I hadn't thought to post this sooner.





	

It was Steve's idea to star gaze.  
  
Their hectic lives didn't often leave a lot of time for simple things and calm moments, or quality time beyond sleeping in the same bed. After a long afternoon spent debriefing, followed by an hour-long press conference, Tony had planned on going to the lab to wind down via tinkering with some of his less revolutionary inventions; he'd considered working on the sentient toaster, because Clint seemed to think it had something against him and Tony was becoming inclined to agree since it only ever burnt _his_ bagels―and while that was wonderfully amusing, the smell of charred bread was really beginning to aggravate Tony's nose. So. Toaster fix-up. That was his plan. Until Steve had trailed in and excitedly suggested they stargaze.

Tony hadn't slept in what was nearing three days, and exhaustion was making itself known―a heavy weight in his bones that kept his movements sluggish, a tempting tug on his eyelids begging him to close his eyes―and so he hadn't really heard everything Steve had said: clear skies, he and Bucky staying up late to theorise about space before the war, meteors, blankets. The details weren't important. Steve was excited; Tony couldn't say no.

 

So here they were, sitting on top of the roof of Stark Tower―or the Avengers Tower, as it was known now―with so many blankets and pillows that the cold hardness of the building beneath where they sat might as well have been a myth, with even Tony's more susceptible, regular human body feeling no trace of discomfort. He was practically drowning in blankets, as it happened, with Steve's arms a warm and heavy presence around his shoulders and waist, anchoring him as he curled into the super soldier's body heat.

New York City came with a lot of light pollution, naturally―or unnaturally, if you wanted to be technical about it―so usually the stars weren't all that well seen, but Tony's tower was high-reaching and rose quite a distance above its surrounding buildings; the sky was also startlingly clear tonight, not a cloud in sight. It made for a chillier breeze, but Tony found it was only a minor inconvenience when snug against a walking, talking radiator for a boyfriend; it only skimmed his cheeks and ruffled his hair, anyway, thanks to Steve turning him into a blanket burrito.

Above them, the sky was a dark navy canvas awash with gleaming stars, each of them seeming to almost possess their own spark of personality with every twinkle. Objectively, Tony could admit to its beauty. Subjectively, even. There was a time when star gazing was all Tony would spend his nights doing, back when he was a lonely insomniac child with no toys to keep him company, right up into teen-hood, before MIT and alcohol swept him away from his sleepy liaison with the burning suns that dotted the night sky. But these days, Tony didn't like to look for too long. Staring up at the great beyond only served as a sickly reminder for what he'd seen within that portal, and the flashbacks were enough to keep him awake at night, working and fiddling to forget his fears, to try and construct defences against that which he could never hope to defeat.

 

  
Steve, beside him, was a different story. Tony hadn't previously been aware that Steve knew so much about astronomy; he was listing off constellations, explaining name origins, arm extended above their heads as his fingertips traced the patterns. It was another thing about Steve that Tony found himself tucking away for later, yet another addition to the ever-growing list of Things Tony Likes About Steve. His enthusiasm and awe was almost childlike, but his voice still held that deep, sober quality to it that could soothe Tony out of his panic attacks and nightmares like nothing else was capable of doing. It was almost a shame for Steve to be wasting his knowledge on him, because Tony could barely keep his eyes open, and the steady thud of Steve's heart against his ear, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, combined with his dulcet tones were really doing nothing to help that situation. Rather, it was like his very own, personal lullaby.

Normally, he'd never allow himself to fall asleep like this: out in the open, unintentionally slipping into slumber, vulnerable like an exposed wound. He was well practiced in easing himself away from even the securest of embraces, could easily force himself into wakefulness and suggest to Steve that they go back inside, but for some reason―because he was warm or because Steve felt like safety and he hadn't slept well in years, or because he didn't want to interrupt Steve's enjoyment―he stayed right where he was, let the seductive caress of sleep envelope him. It was with Steve's lulling voice crooning and the vibration of the man's voice in his chest that Tony's body became lax, falling into the arms of sleep.

  
  
Moments later, Steve became aware of the way Tony's breathing had evened out, the heavy feel of his dark-haired head pressing more noticeably against his pectoral muscle.  
"Tony?" He coaxed, voice quiet and gentle as possible. A glance down confirmed his suspicions, and a pleased smile crept onto his face.  
  
Mission Get Tony To Sleep: Success.


End file.
